From Embers and Ashes, We Rose
by BelieveAndDoWhat
Summary: The War is over and the Light has won. However, things won't ever be the same. They can rebuild, sure, but too many people have seen too many horrible things. And although Hermione knows she can be happy again, she's not entirely sure how that's possible. She doesn't know where she's going. Oliver doesn't think he can go anywhere else. Can they help each other? OW/HG
1. Prologue

A/N This is my first story ever that's not a Dramione. I've written a couple that I never posted, but I've decided to post this one. I'm sorry that it's so short, but this is all I could type up and decided that it would do as an entrance into the story. I will continue with "Time just Doesn't Matter," and hopefully try to do, "Love's got nothing to do with it." Thank you all for being so patient. Love x

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**PROLOGUE**

The last of the sun's rays disappeared from view, coating the grounds in darkness. The wind picked up, leaves and dust fluttering around, dropping on the grass to give it an even dirtier look. However, the blood on the floor seemed to do that already. Hermione sighed quietly, shifting her gaze on the Black Lake towards the mountain. It had been two months since the war had ended, exactly two months. The date for today was July 8, 1998. She worried her lip, her fingers wrapping the jacket tighter around her waist. It felt terrible, knowing that where she stood, bodies had littered the floor. There were teenagers, adults who would never see the break of day again and she, Hermione Jean Granger, would. She would see the upcoming Puddlemere United match against Bulgaria. She would see Hogwarts rebuilt and she would see everyone heal. Most importantly, however, she would see the man standing behind her after she turned around.

Hermione froze, looking at the figure, her hand moving to her wand immediately. His hands shot up in surrender and Oliver Wood moved out of the darkness and into the moonlight, his chestnut hair glinting softly. Hermione's hand did not waver as she lifted the wand, pointing it at his chest.

"The last words you spoke to me," she muttered, "…before you entered the war."

Oliver's hazel eyes searched her face as he realized what she was doing. "The las' time I checked, Lassie, ye and I didnae speak since yer fifth year. When we met in Flourish an' Bott's." He noted her gaze softening and smiled slightly. "The las' time we were in contact, was when I sent ye a letter durin' Christmas. Ye didnae reply. But we didnae see each other until two months ago. In the Great Hall."

"Oliver." His name came out in a breathy whisper as she dropped her wand back into her back pocket and ran to him, her arms wrapping around his middle to give him a hug. His own strong arms hugged her, but to her surprise, gently. "I'm sorry I didn't reply to you. I couldn't. It- it was too dan-"

His shook his head, making a dishing noise. "It's quite alrigh', lassy. I understand. I'm jest so glad ye all are alrigh'."

Hermione nodded, smiling, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. "Oliver….Fred, he- and- and Tonks. They didn't…" She willed herself to move the lump from her throat and his eyes looked at her sadly.

"I know. George, he told me." His voice was sad, soft and Hermione thought she could sleep to just the sound of it. And it sounded heavenly. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in a really long time. "We're havin' a tribute at the game tomorrow. Fer everyone who passed." Hermione's chocolate eyes sought his hazel ones and she nodded. She remembered Harry telling her that Oliver was best mates with Fred and George, the three always spending time together, coming up with new pranks. She frowned, looking up at him.

"I'm sorry about Fred." She whispered and she felt him stiffen. "And about your brother…" Yes, Oliver had a brother, Caeser Wood. Only one of the two brothers he had. Caeser had fought with them at the Battle. He had also lost his life two hours into it. She blinked back tears remembering that as she entered the Great Hall, Oliver lay over his brother's body, sobbing. His cries echoed around the building, intermingling with George's, Padma's, and Molly's. Hermione had wrapped her arms around him, allowing him to cry, but before they could speak, she had been taken away with Ron and Harry, heading to the stairs to wait until the raven-haired boy found the pensieve.

"Thank ye, lass." He muttered and they broke apart.

The two walked the rest of the way to the Great Hall in silence. The first three floors and the quidditch pitch had already been finished and Hermione couldn't help but smile as everyone bustled around cheerfully. Her eyes swept the tables, but she didn't have to search long before her eyes found the family of gingers. Ginny waved her over and she smiled, moving over, Oliver trailing close behind. She sat beside the younger girl as the hazel-eyed boy moved to sit between George and Percy. As the food appeared on the table, the chatter got louder, people were happy. Hermione was happy. Things were finally looking up. They were nearly halfway done with the school, and the people were excited for the first quidditch game of the season.

As she took a spoonful of soup, her eyes moved up catching those of Oliver Wood's and he smiled, nodding his head at her. A flush spread over her cheeks and she looked back down at her soup. George gave her a knowing smirk, looking at his best mate. "So, Hermione…you're going to the match tomorrow, right?" Hermione took a sip of her pumpkin juice before shrugging.

"Oh, I don't know, George. You know quidditch isn't really my thing." She worried her lip and Ginny shook her head, looking at her.

"But you have to go! It's the first game of the season! Come on, Hermione." The ginger girl pleaded. Hermione looked to Harry for help, her eyes begging him to get her out of the situation. George spoke up, however, killing those chances.

"But, 'Mione….Ollie-kins, here, he's playing." George smiled, putting his arm around his friend. "And I'm sure he'd appreciate a little support. Aren't I right, Ollie?" He nudged him in the ribs, an act Hermione didn't catch as she was now looking into her soup, praying to drown in it.

Oliver jumped, shaking his head. His friend and himelf having a muted conversation. George nodded his head in the direction of the brunette and Oliver shook his head again, but the boy wouldn't have any of it and slapped the quidditch player on the back. Very hard. Oliver coughed, getting Hermione's attention. He looked to George. "Well, I mean…if Hermione doesnae like quidditch, I dinnae see the point in making 'er go." This made the girl smile and Ginny shook her head.

"Nonsense. The girl is going. Besides, what is she going to do all day? Read?" Hermione opened her mouth to protest when Ginny's hand shot up. "Hermione so help me, if you say that's what you were planning on doing, I will personally burn all your books."

"Actually, Ginevera, that wasn't what I was planning on doing at all." Hermione lied and she looked at Oliver, smiling. "I'd love to go to the game, Oliver, but I'm afraid I haven't got a ticket." She shrugged and George grinned.

"It's funny you mention it, Miss Hermione, because I happen to have an extra ticket!" He took the ticket out of his pocket and shook it in front of Hermione's face. "See? Now you can go! And better yet, you can sit beside me!" George lay his head on Ron's shoulder, smiling. "It'll be wonderful, won't it, Ronny?" The boy rolled his eyes playfully.

"Okay, off, off." He muttered, pushing George away. The elder Weasley grinned as Hermione took the ticket, worrying her lip.

"Okay, then. It looks like I'm going to the match tomorrow." Her eyes caught Oliver's and she nodded. "Thank you, Oliver."

"It's nothing, Lass." He assured her and stood, taking his plate. "If ye'll excuse mae, 've got some plannin' tae do fer tomorrow." He smiled and walked from the Hall, heading towards the temporary dorms.

Ginny whistled, looking after him, Hermione following suit. Their eyes on him until his bum disappeared around the corner. Ginny smirked, looking at her best mate and muttered, "Go Puddlemere," which caused Hermione to flush from ear to ear.

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A/N I don't want to make this long, so anyways, Caesar Wood's name is pronounced: Say-zer Wood. Just a bit of a Fun Fact for y'all. He is my own creation. Thank you all.


	2. Before the Match

A/N So, here's the second chapter. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you so much to LeeArt for reviewing.

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Hermione yawned quietly as she lay in bed, stretching very much like a cat does before blinking awake. It was still dark, she noted and took her wand from her bedside table, swishing it once. The time appeared before her. '5:47' She frowned sitting up, realizing that she would probably not get anymore sleep. Carefully, she changed out of her pyjamas and into some long black stretchy pants, a pink sports bra, a maroon tank top, and some running shoes, fixing her short hair back with a black ribbon.

Yes, her hair was short. During the war, most of the right side was singed off so she was forced to cut it. She had gone to a muggle salon to get it done, much to Mrs. Weasley's dismay. The older woman had tried to convince the girl to just use a potion to make it grow back, but Hermione found that she really wanted to make the cut. It would feel good, she thought. And she was right. She got a short buzz cut on the right side, but left some undamaged hair so she could cover it and then, she cut it short. Her hair halfway down her neck.

After tying it down, she slipped her wand into a strap on her waist and exited her dorm, heading outside. It was dark out, but she knew the grounds better than anyone. Easily, she moved into a slow jog and then a faster one, until eventually everything was whipping past her eyesight. She ran for ten minutes before slowing into a walk, her heart beating fast. She shivered as a cold breeze passed by her and wrapped her arms around herself, walking a bit faster, very nearly reaching the bridge that led to the front of the castle. Just as she was about to get to the steps, she heard a twig snap and she twirled around, wand out of it's strap with ease. Her eyes roamed over the forest as she worried her lip. "Homenum Revelio…" She muttered and watched as Harry and Ginny were revealed to her from under Harry's invisibility cloak. The two had their arms around each other, lips pressed together in a furious kiss. "Ahem."

"Blimey, Hermione!" Harry yelled as he jumped and pulled away from a blushing Ginny. The older girl crossed her arms, eyebrow raised. "You gave me a fright."

"I could just as easily been Molly, Harry." Hermione shook her head, but couldn't help the smirk coming onto her face. "You two should be more careful, you know. If anyone else had caught you…"

"I know. I know." Harry nodded, taking Ginny's hand, pulling her with him as they walked over to Hermione. "And wipe that smirk off your face, you're starting to remind me of Malfoy." Hermione rolled her eyes, walking beside the pair now. "What are you even doing awake? Hang on, what time is it?" Hermione flicked her wand, watching the time appear again. '7:30'. "So what are you doing up? You look like you've been running."

"Very observant, you are, Mr. Potter." Hermione mocked, smiling. "I was running. I woke up at half to six in the morning and found I couldn't go back to sleep. So, I decided to go for a jog. Clear my mind. It helps me a lot. Now, enough about me. How long have you two been lacking sleep to snog by the trees?" She kept her arms crossed over her chest and Ginny blushed.

"Not too long. It's only been this week. It's just-"

Hermione held up her hand. "You don't have to continue. I understand. Where's Ron? Is he still asleep?" Before the other two could answer, though, she shook her head. "Of course he is. When isn't he?"

"Hermione." Ginny's voice was soft as she called to her best mate, shaking her head. "He's not asleep." The brunette girl turned, smiling.

"What? You mean he's actually up early?" She began to walk forward when Harry's voice stopped her.

"No. That's not exactly what we meant." Hermione turned back to them, her smile leaving her face as her eyes searched his face. His eyes saddened. Ginny's lips were pursed together as she held back a sudden urge to cry.

"Where is he?" Hermione's tone was strong, but her eyes clearly showed anguish. The raven haired boy shook his head.

"He's gone."

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Oliver let out a groan as he stretched, twisting his body to one side. He looked over at George, the boy still asleep on the couch and grimaced. Every now and then, George found himself crying for his brother and would go off in search of Oliver, his one best mate apart from Fred. Oliver would usually let him sleep in the bed and he'd take the couch, but last night, the Weasley hadn't announced his presence. He'd simply entered and fallen asleep to a dim fire. Oliver found him this way in the morning. He looked at the clock and decided he'd have an early breakfast. It was 7:15 and he'd been up for a good thirty minutes. Moving over to the kitchen, he put a kettle over the fire and took out some fresh herbs for his tea. He opened his cupboard and took out a box of cereal, pouring some in a bowl and getting a spoon. It was after his first try that he realized he'd forgotten the milk and poured some in as well. As he was nearly finished with his breakfast, the kettle whistled and he placed the bowl down in the sink, carefully pouring himself his cup.

As he drank, he took out his notes on the game for this evening and looked them over. They would be playing against Bulgaria's National Quidditch team. He shook his head, his eyebrows furrowing together. The last time that Puddlemere had played against them, Oliver had taken a nasty fall off his broom and plummeted down onto the floor. He'd been in the hospital for a few weeks recovering. He hated it, he remembered. Quidditch was his life and not being to play, even for those few weeks had him agitated. He hope to repay the favor to Levski tonight. After all, it was he who had thrown the quaffle. It had hit Oliver at such a terrible speed. He'd thought he'd be able to catch it, but he was wrong. The quaffle hit him right in the gut and he had tumbled through the hoop and off his broom, down, down, down towards the ground.

"Wh-" A loud thump told him George had awoken and possible fallen off the couch. Oliver sighed quietly, putting down his tea and notes, standing and heading to the door frame. Sure enough, George was rubbing his head as he stood from the floor. "What happened?"

"I dunno. I woke up this mornin' and there ye were. Fast asleep." Oliver shrugged, crossing his arms. "Why did ye no' wake mae up, Lad? Ye know I would 'ave gladly leant ye mae bed. 've no need fer it anyway." George shook his head, heading into the kitchen.

"I didn't want to. I just didn't want to be in my dorm. I'm sorry." The boy muttered, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Ye know ye never 'ave to apologize to mae, George. Yer like a brother. I never mind 'aving ye around." Oliver sipped from his cup again, his eyebrows furrowing as he heard a loud noise from outside. George turned, concern clear on his features as both boys moved towards the portrait. The door swung open just as Harry and Ginny ran past.

"Hermione, stop!"

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Hermione ran quickly towards the castle, heading to the dorms. How could he have left? How? After everything they had been through, he'd just leave? Just like that, without even saying goodbye? No, Ron and her weren't dating, but not for a lack of trying. After their kiss during the battle, they'd tried it out, but now was not the time for it, they quickly realized and vowed to try later. Once they were done with rebuilding the castle and fixing their lives up. She still found herself thinking about him from time to time and precisely today she was going to ask him if they could give it a go again. Her eyes pricked with tears as she realized that that would not happen. As she stormed into the castle, she knocked over a suit of armor, causing a loud crash. She could hear Ginny and Harry running after her, but she didn't care. She needed to see for herself.

"Hermione, stop!" Ginny cried, running towards her friend at the same time that Oliver's door opened. George stepped out first, stopping Harry quickly.

"What's wrong with Hermione?" He asked and Harry frowned.

"She knows." That was all that needed to be said and George understood. However, Oliver did not. He nudged George as Harry continued to follow his girlfriend and one of his best mates.

"What's going on?" Oliver wondered, stepping out beside George, who shook his head.

"Ron left last night. After you'd gone from the hall and she'd retired already. He told us that he'd tell her. Apparently, he didn't." Sighing, George ran after Harry and Oliver had no choice but to follow.

Hermione was pounding on the door of Ron's dorm room, kicking at it before taking out her wand. "Alohamora." She heard a soft click and she pushed open the door. Ginny and Harry appeared by the door followed by the rest of the Weasley family and practically everyone else that was helping out. "Ron? Ron?!" She yelled, running to where his bedroom was. It was empty. The bed was made, but any trace of someone living there was gone. "Ron?!" Hermione made her way into the bathroom and then the kitchen. She stopped in the common room again, looking to Harry. "Where did he go? Where is he, Harry?" Harry shook his head, shrugging.

"We- we don't know, Hermione. He didn't tell us anything."

The girl looked around before angrily kicking at the coffee table, letting out a yell. She spent the next few minutes overturning the living room in her anger. Her wand having fallen a few feet from her. A pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her and she collapsed against his chest, dropping them to the floor in a heap. She hadn't realized she'd been crying until she was in Oliver's arms. He didn't shush her, he didn't say anything. He just let her cry and that felt good. Harry and Ginny instructed everyone to go back to their dorms and that they'd fix the room before leaving. George, although a bit more hesitant went back to Oliver's room.

After a few more minutes, Hermione stopped crying and just lay in Oliver's arms, sniffing. "I'm sorry for getting your shirt wet." She muttered, pulling away slowly. The ex-Gryffindor shook his head, smiling slightly.

"It's quite alright, Lass. Sometimes ye just need someone to hold ye." He nodded and Hermione smiled slightly, looking around the room. "Ye made quite a mess, ye know." Hermione chuckled softly, looking down at her hands. "Nothin' a little magic can't fix." He said, waving his hand, using wandless magic to have the room fix itself up. Hermione blinked, looking at Oliver in surprise.

"How-how did you do that?" Her eyes looked at him in wonder and he tilted his head. "That bit of- was that wandless magic?"

"Smartest witch of yer age and ye cannae recognize wandless magic?" He teased, nudging her.

"No, it- it was a rhetorical question. It's just….so many people I know that can perform it, they stopped being able to after the war. I figured it was something psychological and-" She stopped herself as she looked at him.

"And ye thought I would no' be able tae do it." He finished her sentence and Hermione nodded, looking back down at her hands.

"After everything you've been through, I thought maybe you wouldn't be able to…I see that I was wrong." She muttered, licking her lips before her eyes moved to catch his. "I still can't do it. I feel like I'll never be able to again."

"Nonsense." Oliver looked at her incredulously. "Ye'll be able to, Lass. It'll jest take some time, but even if I 'ave tae coach ye meself, I will." He nodded and Hermione smiled, moving in to peck his cheek.

"Thank you. And good luck today, Oliver. Be careful." With that, she was gone, leaving Oliver to touch his cheek gently, surprise written in his features.

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Hermione smiled as she waved at the little boy staring at her, his fingers in his mouth. He looked to be about three. His mother was busy buying something to eat for them, not noticing how he clung to her legs. She giggled and turned to George as he pushed her towards the man asking for tickets. She handed hers over and waited for George to hand his before taking his arm and walking towards the lifts. "This is so exciting!" She did a little jump causing the older boy to laugh.

"Since when are you excited about quidditch, Ms. Granger?" He asked and she shrugged. "Or is it not the game you're excited for, but someone else? Perhaps a certain Oliver Wood?" Hermione shushed him as some of the people in the lift looked over at them.

"No, Mr. Weasley, I just so happen to actually want to support my friend." She gave him a warning look and he nodded.

"Yeah, sure, sure." Hermione rolled her eyes and waited patiently as the rest of the lift was filled and they were off, heading towards their seats in the Minister's box. It took them a while before they actually arrived, seeing as the lift had to drop off everyone else that was on the way. She fidgeted nervously as they took their seats beside Ginny and Harry, playing with her scarf the entire time. Her eyes didn't even waver as Draco Malfoy sat beside her, bringing along Astoria Greengrass.

"Granger." He nodded his head and she jumped, turning to look at him, her hand on her heart.

"Bloody Hell, Malfoy. Don't scare me like that." She slapped his arm and he smiled, leaning back in his seat. "Hi, Astoria." She smiled at the witch, look back at Draco, pinching his arm. "Don't you think you could have told me you were coming in to the city today? I would've baked you a birthday cake!"

Hermione Granger, baking a birthday cake for Draco Malfoy? If someone had told her that she'd be considering it, much less talking to Draco on friendly terms a few months ago, she would have gladly hexed them into oblivion. However, that was not the case. It was during the war that they began to talk. During their sixth year, the two had been trapped in the shrieking shack for more than a few hours when they realized they had so much in common. During the battle, they watched each other's backs and had, on occasion kissed. But it didn't amount to anything, they both knew. The kisses weren't out of love for one another, but out of fear. Fear for what was to come. Now, they were friendly, even though not everyone agreed.

"I don't even eat cake." Draco shrugged, lacing his fingers together. "Besides, I wanted to surprise you. I know you've been having a rather tough time with the rebuilding."

"Decided it was time to help?" Hermione tilted her head and he laughed, tilting his head back. She smiled, shaking her head. Draco didn't help with the rebuilding because he was too busy at the ministry, taking over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"You are too funny, Granger, you know that?" He grinned at her. "I just decided I'd come to see how you all were. How is Potty getting along?" He rose a brow, looking at the boy.

"I'm doing peachy, Malfoy." Harry shrugged, keeping his eyes on the pitch. Hermione rolled her eyes and sat back in her seat.

"And what about Weaselbee?" He asked her, but evidently, it was the wrong thing to say. She stiffened and he could see she looked about to cry. "That bad, huh?" Hermione swallowed softly and looked over at him.

"Ronald left this morning. We don't know where. He just…cleared out." Hermione muttered and Draco frowned.

"Sounds exactly like him."

"Draco!" Hermione scolded and he shrugged.

"What? It's true, Hermione! And you know it! He has always had a bad habit of leaving when you all need him the most." He looked back at her and her face softened.

"So did you…." She whispered and he rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat.

"Yes, but I wasn't your friend back then." He told her and just as he was about to speak, Kingsley stood. "They're about to start, let's pat attention."

Hermione turned her eyes to the dark-skinned man before her, smiling. Kingsley had so rightfully earned his spot as Minister for Magic. There was no doubt about that. She watched as he cast the sonorous charm on himself and addressed the entire stadium and wondered how Oliver felt about now.

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Oliver paced nervously on the floor, his broom in front of him. As Captain for Puddlemere United, he was allowed to be the most nervous. Everything had to go perfect, he thought. Not a single hair out of place for any of his team members. Benjy Williams, the seeker, patted his teammate on the back.

"Calm down, Oliver. It'll be great. The entire team being able to play together again? It's absolutely golden." Benjy nodded and Oliver gave him a small smile. He was right, of course. They had been lucky, none of the team had been killed off in the Battle at Hogwarts. It was a miracle they were all able to play again. Especially togoether. He was about to open his mouth to reply when Philbert Deverill, the team manager walked in.

"All right, you lot, listen up. The Minister just started speaking and we're about to go on. Now, I know how you lot feel about Madame Hooch, but she really is one of the best. So no throwing rogue bludgers at her. That goes to you, McKean." Deverill looked at the team. "Now when the doors open, you fly out there and you make me proud. We didn't defeat the world's darkest, ugliest wizard to lose tonight." Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his manager's exaggeration. "Get in file, you sorry lot."

Oliver took a breath as he and Benjy took the front of the lines, mounting their brooms. Like always, they turned to each other and pounded their fist together. "Be safe out there, Wood." Benjy smiled and Oliver nodded.

"Ye too, ye numpty."

Benjy rolled his eyes and suddenly became very focused. Oliver licked his lips as he heard the finishes of the Minister's speech and the crowd when into a roar. His eyes on the ground, he saw the light begin to hit his feet as the doors opened and they were all suddenly engulfed in the stadiums lights. He kicked off and was in the air. This is where Oliver felt most at home. In the air, on a broom. His nerves forgotten, he and Benjy flew around the pitch, laughing and grinning. He took his spot in the circle, his eyes on Levski. Madame Hooch walked onto the pitch, looking up at them, setting down the chest. With a flick of her wrist, it opened, and with another, the bludgers were released. Then came the snitch.

"Keepers to your positions." Hooch ordered and Oliver was off, heading to hover before the posts. He took another breath and saw the snitch was missing. That meant just one thing. His eyes landed on Hooch just as she threw the quaffle into the air. And the game begun.

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A/N Quick factor you all: Benjy and Philbert are real characters. So is Levski. They are of Rowling's creation, not mine. Please Review. Thank you x


	3. The Match

A/N The third chapter was posted so quickly after the second because I have nothing to do today. However, I am busy most of the upcoming week and probably won't be able to post until the weekend. I'm hoping to put up a chapter once every week. Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. Here goes nothing. Love x

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Hermione was not one to sit, that was clear to them all as right now she stood by the railing, her eyes darting around the quidditch pitch, never leaving the quaffle. George stood beside her, deciding that he would not allow her to fall to her death. At least not without him attempting to save her, she had laughed at that. "I'm not going to fall!" She punched his arm playfully and he rolled his eyes.

"Says you." George shrugged. "I don't know if you know this, Ms. Granger, but you can be very clumsy." Hermione rolled her eyes at that, looking back at the pitch as Levski hurled the quaffle towards the hoops. Oliver blocked it with ease, causing a loud roar from the crowd of Puddlemere supporters, Hermione among them. She clapped and hugged George happily.

"That was absolutely amazing! Did you see that?" Hermione grinned, looking back at Oliver. "He's improved from his years at Hogwarts, I mean, he was already great then, but-" George cut her off, grinning.

"Hermione, do I hear that you've actually taken a fancy to Oliver Wood?" Hermione rolled her eyes, looking forward again and brushing a strand of hair form her face. She looked down at her nails, which had been painted navy blue with the golden crossed bulrushes. She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a white long sleeved sweater, black cardigan, grey scarf, black skinny jeans, and flat brown ankle boots.

"No, Georgie-boy, I do not fancy Oliver Wood. He's a friend, I've already told you that." She tried to hide her blush as she nudged George's side gently. The game had been going on for two hours already, with both teams having scored numerously. The score was currently 280-230, with Bulgaria in the lead. Hermione was on edge, she really hoped Puddlemere would win tonight. Yes, she had spotted Viktor already. In fact, he had made a show of flying near to her section whenever he could, winking at her a few times causing George and Draco to laugh. That earned them a few good hits to the arm. Hermione was never really a violent person, but lately, she had found hitting their arms, whether playfully or not, good. She wasn't sure if that was a bad thing or a good thing, but nobody had said anything yet. So, she'd probably continue until they told her to.

"Where the hell is Benjy? He should have found the snitch by now…" George muttered, eyes looking for the boy.

Hermione shook her head and shrugged, her eyes moving to stop on McKean who had just hit a bludger. She worried her lip, looking around desperately for the quaffle. It happened so suddenly that it wasn't until he was falling that she realized what was happening. Oliver- he was hit.

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Oliver's eyes moved to Levski, watching as he caught the quaffle, taking it from Ivanova and flying towards the posts. Licking his lips, Oliver steadied himself, ready for the throw. Sure enough, when he was just in reach, Levski's arm retracted and he threw the ball towards the right hoop. As a second nature, Oliver swooped down, using the back part of his broom to hit the quaffle back towards Miranda Bey, one of Puddlemere's chaser. She caught it and quickly turned, heading back towards Bulgaria's keeper, Lev Zograf. The burly man blocked the ball from entering the middle post, sending it towards Ivan Volkov, a beater, who hit it towards Levski.

"Give me the bat!" Dimitrov, another chaser, yelled at Pyotr Vulchanov, taking his bat just as a bludger came hurtling towards them. Dimitrov hit the bludger with all his force, sending it in the direction of the posts. Oliver never saw it coming. His eyes had been on Levski, who was heading his way. The bludger whirled past his head and a second one came towards him, hitting him full force on the back of his head. He heard a crack and black dots lined his eyes. The crowd gasped as Oliver slipped from consciousness and off his broom, spiraling down towards the ground.

Levski made the quaffle through the left post.

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"Oliver!" His name slipped from her lips before she had a chance to stop it, but she didn't care. In a flash, Hermione had turned from where she was at, heading out of the Minister's box. She heard her friends call her name and some footsteps behind her, but she didn't have to stop to know that it was George following. The ran to the lift and entered. Hermione looked at the wizard. "Take us down to the tents." She ordered.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but we are not allowed to move the lifts during the game, you'll have to take the stairs." Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously and she whipped out her wand, pointing it at him.

"Take us down now." Frightened, the man nodded, waving his wand once. The lift shuttered and began to move, taking them down. Hermione looked at George, who had yet to say anything. He rose a brow at her, shaking his head.

"You're so scary." He mouthed, his eyes looking over at the man, who had his back to them. She shook her head, smirking slightly. After a minute or so, the lift stopped and the doors opened. Hermione and George stepped out together, moving towards Puddlemere's tent. Hermione's eyes snapped to the field, the game was still going on, but Oliver wasn't there. "They must have moved him back inside." George looked down at her and she nodded, walking towards the tent. As they got nearer they heard shouting.

"He's my best player! He's the captain!" Philbert was yelling, but to who, they weren't sure. "I can't have this. You need to find a way to fix him and fix him now. He needs to go back in the game." At that moment, the sound of another ten points being scored and Lee Jordan's voice,

"That's another ten points to Bulgaria!" He cried, "They now lead Puddlemere 300-250." Philbert groaned, banging his head against one of the wooden posts holding the tent up. Hermione entered the, George following suit.

"Oi!" Philbert turned at their entrance. "No fans allowed in the tent! Talley escort them out." A tall, muscled man began to move towards them, but Hermione didn't budge. "Are you daft? I said, Get out."

"I'm not leaving." Hermione shook her head, her eyes falling on Oliver. The boy was laying on a bed, a healer leaning over him, wand moving over him. Hermione's eyes showed concern and Philbert stopped Talley, hand outstretched. Slowly, carefully, the girl moved over to the 22 year old. He was laying in bed, eyes closed. His breathing was erratic, she noted. His chest rose and fell, but it shook with pain. Frowning, she sat by his side, looking at the healer. "What's happened?"

"Bludger 'it 'is 'ead. And it came at a nasty force, it did. Cracked all along the underside, lucky 'e didn't bleed to death." The older man nodded and Hermione sucked in a breath, eyes darting to George who stood beside her, hand on her shoulder. "We got to 'im in time, though. 'ad to fix 'im up right there on the field, otherwise 'e wouldn't 'ave made it." She licked her lips, taking Oliver's hand gently. "What's more, 'is fall landed 'im in a terrible heap. 'e broke three ribs and 'e 'as internal bleeding. E'll be out for two weeks, I assume. One, if we're lucky." Philbert groaned again, his face in his hands.

"And Benjy Williams, he's seen the snitch! He's off, ladies and gentlemen, speeding after the golden little ball. Viktor Krum, following not far behind. Fun fact for you all-" The crowd groaned at this, but Lee ignored it, too amused. George grinned. He hadn't changed a bit. "-the Snitch was first introduced by Bowman Wright of Godric's Hollow. Before, in it's place, we used a Golden Snidget which was first introduced to the game in 1269 by Barberus Bragge, Chief of the Wizards' Council. He gave 150 galleons to the player who caught the snitch and that, my fellow spectators, is how the snitch came to be." Lee's eyes darted around the field.

Hermione felt Oliver squeeze her hand and she looked back on him, frowning. "We need to move him." She muttered, looking at the healer. "He doesn't have to go back to St. Mungo's, does he? I can take care of him at Hogwarts." She nodded, feeling George squeeze her shoulder gently. "Please…"

The healer looked between them all and stopped with Philbert, who eyed Hermione for a bit. "Yes, alright. He can stay with you, but if he comes back to me completely in love and not wanting to play anymore, I'll sue you." Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"We're not dating, Sir. Oliver's a very dear friend of mine." Hermione explained, looking at him. He smirked, looking at her and tilting his head. "I'm-"

"Hermione Granger." He interrupted. "Of course, how could I not have seen it? Yes, Oliver's told us about you." He nodded just as there was an uproar through the entire crowd.

"He's done it! Benjy Williams has caught the snitch! The final score for the first game of the season is 310-420! Puddlemere wins!" Philbert threw his fist in the air, excited.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got to go get the team." Hermione nodded in his direction and he left without another word. She turned her attention back to the unconscious boy, her left hand in his, her right hand over her lips. Her thumb gently tracing over his hand. The Healer took George to one side, giving him some instructions before heading out from the tent, leaving behind a bill for Philbert. They stayed in silence for a few minutes before George cleared his throat.

"I'll be outside, Hermione." She nodded, not saying a word.

She licked her lips, looking down at Oliver. "You stupid boy…" She muttered, looking down at him, brushing some hair out of his eyes. "How could you be so reckless?" Taking a small breath, she placed her forehead against his cold hands, closing her eyes. That was how she was when five minutes later, the rest of the team entered, completely ecstatic. They quieted upon the sight, Benjy clearing his throat. Hermione's head shot up and she let go of Oliver's hand quickly, standing. Benjy rubbed the back of his neck, looking her up and down.

He moved forward, extending his hand to her. "Benjy Williams." Hermione hesitated before sticking her hand in his sweaty palm, nodding.

"Hermione Granger."

A whisper broke out among the team as they all looked at each other. Benjy smiled. "So it is. We've heard a lot about you, Ms. Granger." The rest of the teammates nodded and Hermione smiled slightly.

"So I've heard. And please, call me Hermione." She said, sitting back down beside Oliver.

"Hermione…" Benjy mulled over her name for a bit before smiling. "Oliver didn't tell us you two were a couple, Hermione."

"We're not!" She protesed immediately, standing again. "No, we're not together. Oliver is a dear friend of mine, but we- there's nothing going on between us." She crossed her arms over her chest as Benjy nodded, lifting his hands.

"Alright, alright. I just assumed…I'm sorry." Benjy placed his hands down by his sides again and Hermione nodded, looking around again. "So, what is the extent of his damage?" Her eyes snapped to the Seeker, who still held the snitch clutched in his hand and went into a detailed explanation of Oliver's injuries.

"They said he probably won't wake for a week or two." The last part was quiet and she turned her head to look at the Keeper. A hand on her shoulder had her jump.

"He's been in worse, Hermione." She turned to look at Benjy and gave him a small smile, nodding. George and Harry entered the tent, followed closely by Ginny. "Blimey, it's Harry Potter…" Benjy murmured and the team all went to shake his hand. He smiled politely at them before turning to Hermione.

"Hermione we've got to go." Ginny extended her hand to her and she looked back at Oliver.

"Actually, I'm waiting for the carriage that's supposed to take Oliver to Hogwarts." She looked at George, who nodded. "He's going to be staying there. I've agreed to care for him." At that moment, Philbert walked in with two healers, telling them where the carriage was located and looked at Hermione.

"You'll be travelling with him, I assume?" He asked her and she nodded, not moving from beside him. "Great. She'll be travelling alongside him. What about you?" He looked at George, who shook his head.

"No, No, I've not the patience for that type of travel. We'll see you in a while, Hermione." He leant in and pressed a kiss to her cheek. She smiled and waved at Harry and Ginny before they were out, heading towards the portkey. It would take them forty five minutes to drive by carriage to the nearest inn and use their fireplace to floo to the Hogwarts fireplace in the Professor's quarters. She sighed quietly and said her goodbye's to the team, following the healers – who were levitating Oliver's cot to the carriage just outside. One of the healers left the door open for her, escorting her in.

Of course, the inside of the carriage was much bigger than the outside. There was enough space for Oliver's cot between the seats on either side. There was a bottle of wine, scotch, and Odgen's Old Firewhiskey on one side, as well as a few glasses. Hermione sighed, pouring herself a drink of the whiskey and sitting back beside Oliver's head. The carriage started and she took a sip of her drink, her hand on Oliver's forehead, playing gently with his hair.

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A/N Thank you so much for reading. I hope you all liked this chapter. I am so excited for this story, it's ridiculous. Fact: All of Bulgaria's players are of JK Rowling's creation. Please review! As it helps my self-esteem. Thanks. Love x


	4. All Better

A/N So, here's chapter 4! It took me a while to post it up because I've been really busy with school. I wanted to finish it last night, but I was dozing off at 9:30 and had to go to bed. Anyways, here it is. I hope you all enjoy. Please read and review! REVIEWS helps me out a lot. Love x

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It had already been two weeks and Hermione hadn't stopped bustling about her dorm since Oliver had been moved there. His unconscious form lay on the bed in her room while she slept on the couch beside him. It was morning right now, around 6 am.

At this time, she'd wake beside him and start with some reading. Right now she was reading "Cinderella," one of he favourite stories. Her small voice would resonate quietly throughout the room. She'd read for about an hour. At seven, she'd use her wand to clean him up, doing so slowly so the spells wouldn't hurt him. By the time she was finished, Ginny would bring her breakfast and she'd eat quickly while the ginger girl took care of him. Then, she'd bathe and Ginny would leave the two alone again once she was done. After that, Hermione would begin to read again, but not the same novel as the morning. She read, "Hogwarts: A History," for him until time came for her to give him his vitamins. She gave these to him through a series of spells. It helped so he wouldn't starve, but he couldn't eat either, being in this state, so the spells it was. Hermione would wait a moment before moving about, cleaning the room a bit. Then lunch would come around, this time George would bring it to her and they'd usually stay talking until it was time for her to sleep.

Today, once she was getting the room cleaned, it just so happened that she heard a quiet groan. Immediately, she moved to Oliver's side, eyes wide. He was shifting some, his eyes shut tightly in pain. Her hand took his gently and she couldn't help but smile. "Oliver? Oliver?"

"Hmm? Her- Hermione?" The boy's eyes opened just slightly as he attempted to sit up. Her hand went to his shoulder, pushing him back down. "Where am I? Oh, Merlin, mae body hurts." He took a breath and Hermione brought a potion to his lips.

"Drink it, Oliver. It'll help with the pain." She helped him as he swallowed it quickly, coughing. "You're in Hogwarts. My dorms, to be exact…you've been here for over two weeks." She muttered the last part and he looked at her, squinting.

"Two weeks? But the game-" He started and she shook her head, cutting him off.

"You sustained several injuries, Oliver. It was lucky you weren't killed!" She licked her lips. "But as I know it's important to you, you lot won. Puddlemere, I mean. Benny caught the snitch." She still had her hand in his, rubbing gently. "You bled so much…I was sure that you- the healer allowed me to bring you here, to take care of you."

"He did? Ye mean…ye've been caring' fer mae?" He blinked up at her and she nodded, moving his hair from his face. His hand moved to cover hers over his. "Thank ye, Lass." She smiled and stood, gently helping him sit. It took a few tries and he constantly groaned in pain, but he was sat up in no time. "Can ye tell me the extent of mae injuries, Lassie?"

Hermione nodded, sitting beside him quietly, gently so as to not disturb him. Then, she gave him an account of the day he fell of his broom and what happened to him. "They said you'd be out for two weeks. When the time was up and you didn't wake, I- I was so scared, Oliver. I was afraid I'd done something wrong, made it worse for you and that you'd never wake up." She placed her forehead on his hand, a gesture she often did when he was asleep, but now that he was awake…she paused, sitting up, looking at him. "I was so afraid when I saw you falling."

"Thank ye, Hermione. Fer taking care of mae. An' good care by the looks of it. 'm still hurtin' a bit, but not as much as I'm sure I would be had I been taken care of by anyone else." Hermione smiled at him and he brought her hand to his lips, brushing them over her knuckles. She felt herself flush and he took a small breath. "Can ye help me out of bed? I think I ought tae go tae the Great Hall, I am gettin' rather hungry."

Hermione nodded, standing. "Perhaps I should go get George. He is stronger than me and could probably help you up faster than I could." She made to move for the door but his hand on her wrist stopped her.

"Nae, Lass. It's quite alright. 'm sure I can stand by maeself…with jest a little help from ye." His voice was soft and Hermione nodded, moving to his side. Her hand went under his arm and with a groan, he swung his legs off the side of the bed, his breath heavy. Hermione couldn't help her eyes roaming over his chest. Quidditch had done him extremely well. At 24, he had now been playing for 18 years and flying for 22. His chest was just the right amount of tan for someone so naturally pale. He had perfectly contoured muscles and that wonderful v-shape leading to under his trousers. She felt her face flush and she pressed her hand into his lower back, pulling him to stand.

After a minute or two, he was standing up somewhat straight. His right hand on his ribcage. Hermione frowned and moved in front of him, her hands on the wrapping around his ribs. She unpinned it and looked up into his hazel eyes. "This might hurt a bit, Oliver. When I say so, take a breath, okay?" The young man looked down at her and nodded. She licked her lips, fixing the gauze, but not tightening it yet. "One…two….now." As Oliver took a breath, she tightened the wrap, pinning it again. He exhaled and let out a sound of pain. "I'm sorry. It was much easier when you were asleep, but I much prefer you awake, to be honest."

He let out a crooked grin that lit up his eyes and she smiled. "I much prefer maeself awake as well, Lass."

"I'm sure you do. Now come on, they should be serving lunch by now. Everyone will be so happy to see you!" She walked slowly by his side, her arm around his waist and after finding him a shirt, headed for the door.

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The Great Hall was busy, everyone was in deep conversation, mostly about the school and it's renovations. The school now had its fourth and fifth floors complete. It had been a tiring two weeks, but they had accomplished it. At the moment, Harry, Ginny, and McGonagall - along with Madame Pince - were working on stocking up the library. Most of the books had been burned, but luckily, Madame Pince kept a parchment with the inventory the library kept. At the moment, they were all arguing about what new books to get. Harry wanted more books on defensive spells, Ginny wanted some on quidditch, McGonagall on transfiguration and Madame Pince was completely indifferent. Beside them, the Weasleys were remembering their trip to Egypt. Lucius Malfoy was in deep conversation with Daphne Greengrass, who was currently sitting hand in hand with Blaise Zabini. Across them, Draco and Astoria were speaking with Estella Greengrass and Narcissa Malfoy. All around them, the Patils, Lovegoods and Neville, the Abbots, Creeveys, Goyles, and many other families were laughing and chatting about the upcoming year.

The doors swung open with a creak and immediately the chatter died down. Everyone's eyes were on the two currently walking in. Hermione's fingers tightened slightly on Oliver's waist and he walked slowly, with her help.

George stood quickly, running over to them, and helping Oliver on his other side. "It's alright, Hermione. I got him." Hermione hesitated and he smiled, nodding. "It's alright. Let go." She felt her fingers uncurl and stepped away from him as the Hall burst into applause, people truly happy that he was up. Grinning, Hermione walked with them slowly until they could sit beside Harry and Ginny. George helped him sit before moving back to his spot across the table. "When did he wake up? Why didn't you call me to help you?"

Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Oliver. "She was going tae. Call ye, I mean, but I didnae let her. I wanted tae try tae get up by maeself. An' I did." He nodded and George shook his head.

"Stubborn oaf."

"Numpty."

Hermione smiled, crossing her legs underneath the table, handing Oliver the pumpkin juice. "For your information, Georgie, he woke up twenty minutes ago. And Oliver's right, I wanted to call you, but he asked me not to." She shrugged, grabbing a plate and filling it up fete passing it to Oliver. He rose a brow as he looked at her, obviously not used to her doing things for him. George smirked slightly, leaning against his hands.

"Ahem." Hermione stopped mid-action, realizing what she was doing. She blushed.

"I've been doing it for two weeks, I guess I just got used to it." She worried her lip and took a plate for her own, serving herself.

"Sounds lovely." George rolled his eyes and Harry took a sip of his juice.

"So, Hermione, we're restocking the library and trying to get new books. Any suggestions?" The boy turned to his best mate, really concerned with her opinion.

"You want me to give suggestions?" Her eyes lit up at this, already giddy at being able to contribute to the library.

"Well, of course we do." Madame Pince nodded, looking at the girl. "You've seen most of the library, maybe even more than any of the professors have. I believe you're input would be most welcome."

Hermione grinned, nodding, excited. "Oh, I'd love to! I would. I mean," she coughed, flushing. "It would be an honor." George and Ginny let out a chuckle and she shot them a glare.

"Perfect!" McGonagall smiled, looking at them all. "What do you suggest?"

Hermione twisted her lips, deep in thought. She leaned on her hand, looking around. "How about fairy tale books? There are some lovely muggle ones and I think it would help. I mean, most people don't know this, but the Grimm brothers, the original authors, were wizards. Wilhelm and Jacob Grimm, they were self taught. It's rather interesting rea-"

"Like Cinderella?" Oliver tilted his head, his hazel eyes on her.

"Yes, actually, exactly lik-" She paused, looking back at him, turning in her seat. "Hang on, how- how do you know about Cinderella?" Oliver scratched his head, thinking. "We're you able to hear anything? Like, when unconscious?" He shook his head.

"I dinnae remember 'earing anything. Why?" He took a sip of his juice and Hermione blushed, looking around. Everyone near her was gazing at her expectantly.

Smiling slightly, she looked down at her plate, cheeks rosy. "Well, I- see the thing is- is I…." She took a breath, looking back up at Oliver. "I've been reading Cinderella to you….for the past three days ."

Oliver blushed and ducked his head slightly, looking at George, who whistled. "Well, then…Ollie-kins, tell me, what is Cindyrella about?"

"It's….let's see…." His brows furrowed in thought and he nodded. "I think it's about a girl an' prince. An' if 'm nay mistaken there is somethin' about a glass slipper?"

Hermione grinned, taking a bite of her French bread. "Yes, that's the one. I'm very surprised, Oliver. I didn't think you could retain that information." She licked her lips, taking another sip of her pumpkin juice.

"Is that all you read to him?" Ginny whispered, lifting an eyebrow. Hermione looked at her and shook her head.

"Hey, Oliver, when was Hogwarts founded?" Her voice was soft and he answered without hesitation.

"Late 9th, early 10th century." He paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. "How- did ye read a history book tae me, Lass?"

Hermione nodded. "I like, Hogwarts: A History. It's a great book."

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The rest of the day passed in a blur. Before she knew it, Hermione was helping George get Oliver back into bed. After saying his goodnights and heading to his own dorm, she reentered the bedroom and yawning, curled into the couch.

"Uhh…Hermione? Wha-What are ye doin'?" Oliver's voice came from his spot on the bed and she lifted her head, confused. "I mean, didnae ye have yer own bed? Don't tell me ye've been sleepin' there the entire time, Lass?" After a few moments of silence, he sighed, sitting up slowly, easier than before. "Hermione. Is that where ye've been sleepin'?"

Hermione worried her lip, her eyes on the ground, her fingers playing with her quilt. "See, the thing is-" At this, he let out a groan. "-Oliver, I couldn't just leave you. Especially as you slept. The room's not nearly big enough for another bed, either, so I didn't transfigure one. It's fine, I'm quite used to it."

"It is not fine!" Hermione jumped at his tone, he looked really upset. She frowned, standing. "Hermione, I dinnae like being waited on hand an' foot! An' tae find out that ye slept on that lumpy pace of furniture while I was in yer own bed-"

"Don't do that, Oliver! Don't make me feel bad for helping you. You were unconscious! I wasn't exactly going to put _you _on the couch, was I?" Hermione shook her head, crossing her arms and sitting on the edge of the bed. "Don't you dare feel bad for the way I've been sleeping, it was my decision to make and I don't regret it. Besides, it's just a couch…and I would thank you to not call it lumpy, it took a while to pick it." The last part was spoken on a light note making his eyes soften some, but not enough.

He shook his head, scooting from the middle of the bed to an edge, taking his wand and tapping it against the mattress. "Engorio." The bed grew into a King size and he nodded, satisfied.

Hermione looked at him warily. "What are you doing?"

"There is naw way I am goin' tae let ye sleep on that." He shook his head and adjusted himself again. "Ye'll sleep on the bed. Honestly, Hermione, look at what a simple solution this is. An' they call ye the brightest witch of yer age." He rolled his eyes playfully and she felt her lips curve into a smile before his words set in and her face went red.

"Wait," She stood again, perplexed. "You're saying you want me to sleep beside you? But what if I hurt you!? What if I disturb your rest?! No, it's fine, Oliver. I prom-"

"There'll be none of that, Lass. Now ye get yerself intae this bed or ye'll be forcin' mae tae do it fer ye." Oliver shook his head and fixed himself for bed, causing Hermione to flush some more at the sight of his bare chest. Slowly, carefully, she walked to the empty side, hesitating. Oliver turned his head to face her, his eyes on her. "I don't bite, Lass….at least, not 'til past the ferst date." He winked at her and she felt her knees go weak. It was so lucky she was holding onto the bed frame. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself from gasping quietly. Did Oliver just flirt with her? "Hermione…" he began and she slid under the covers, beside him. "Now that's more like it. Goodnight, Lassie."

"Goodnight, Oliver." Hermione whispered, her eyes on the ceiling. Honestly, she didn't she would be able to sleep much this night.

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A/N Thank you for reading. Please REVIEW!


	5. We're Getting There

A/N Here is the 5th Chapter! Thank you so much to everyone who's reading and reviewing. I hope you enjoy this bit. Please REVIEW! Love x

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Sunlight trickled in through the window, the curtain parted just slightly enough. The girl on the bed shifted, turning in her left side, her hand under her cheek. It was nearly 8 in the morning and although Hermione was asleep, Oliver was wide awake. He had been for the past twenty minutes. He lay flat on hi back, his right hand over his stomach, his head turned so he was looking right into Hermione's face.

She looked so peaceful when she slept. Beautiful, he thought. Her skin was a soft olive color so she was not too pale, her cheeks were rosy pink, her lips- her lips a pretty red. His eyes roamed her face an he smiled. Her eyelashes danced on the top of her cheeks. He smiled and closed his eyes for a few seconds, opening them slowly.

Hermione looked back at him with a small smile, her chocolate eyes boring into his hazel ones. Her hand brushed against his own and she took it slowly. His heart beat roughly against his chest and he was sure she could hear it. He licked his lips, his hand tugging on her own and she leaned forward.

"Oliver…." She muttered his name softly, her lips right above his. He smiled, looking into her eyes. "Oliver….wake up." His eyebrows furrowed together, confused. "Oliver, wake up, please."

Oliver's eyes snapped open and he turned his head, looking at the girl standing over him. Her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. Hermione smiled down at him, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, good. It's nearly breakfast time. Would you like to get ready?" He nodded, sitting up slowly, hissing in pain. Hermione patted his hand gently. "I'll run a bath for you, alright?"

"Alright." She smiled and stood, tugging on the bottom of her pajama top as she headed out of the room. He heard the bath start and he sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Why did it have to be a dream?

Hermione was making sure the temperature was just right, humming to herself so she didn't hear the door open behind her. Oliver waited by the door, hands to his sides, watching her. His eyes closed as he began to doze off and leant against the wall. Hermione smiled, satisfied as she turned to go call Oliver. "Bloody - Oliver!" She jumped in fright as she spotted him, hand on her chest. His eyes popped open, confused.

"What? What happened?" He looked around and she shook her head, smiling slightly.

"You have me a fright!" Hermione crossed her arms. "For someone who is in so much pain, you sure can be really quiet." She paused beside him. "The bath is ready; I put all of the necessities beside it. If….if you need any help, give me a yell, all right?"

Oliver nodded as he walked forward, setting his clean clothes beside the bathtub. It was about half the size of the one in the prefect's bathroom, but with all of its beauty, he saw. Hermione closed the door, smiling as she headed towards the small kitchen. She poured herself a cup of tea before moving over to the bookshelf, choosing Cinderella. She sat on the futon, legs underneath her as she began to read.

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Oliver's bath was quick, although it took him several tries before he could lift his arms to lather his hair with shampoo. He took a breath as he braced himself and pushed up with his arms, sliding out of the bathtub and standing, taking his towel and drying off. He looked down at his clothes and slipped into it, realizing he'd forgotten to bring a shirt. He cursed to himself, walking slowly towards the door. As he exited, his eyes went to the living room where a cup of tea sat on the coffee table and an open book lay over the futon. He moved over quietly, picking it up and reading the title. 'Cinderella,' he thought, a smile appearing on his lips. 'Hermione must have left for breakfast already.'

He scratched the back of his head as he headed for the bedroom, the door slightly ajar. His hand was about to push it open when he heard a small noise come from inside. He peered in, making sure to be quiet. Hermione stood with her back to him, lifting her pajama top over her head and tossing it aside. His eyes ghosted over her form. Her back was beautiful, scarred, but beautiful. She had a long scar going from her right shoulder blade to her right hip and another just underneath it. He looked down at the ground, feeling suddenly guilty for looking at her. He turned to go, "You can come in now, Oliver." Hermione whispered and he paused, turning and opening the door. She stood facing him now, her arms crossed over her chest, now in a black and white striped sweater, jeans, and black, ankle high, combat boots. She reached into a drawer and tossed him a shirt. He took it, his eyes on the pattern.

"I did naw mean to look at ye, Lass." He muttered. "I did naw know ye were in here." She shook her head, her hand on his shoulder, a smile on her lips.

"It's perfectly fine, Oliver. It's not your fault." She squeezed his shoulder gently. "I should have closed the door. Besides, you didn't see anything major." She shrugged and tiptoed, pecking his cheek. He smiled and slipped his shirt on before looking around for his shoes. He found them beside the bed and tried to bend down to get them, gasping in pain. Hermione was beside him at once. "I've got it. It's alright, Oliver. Take a seat." He frowned and sat on the edge of the bed and she looked up at him as she slipped on his socks, then his converse. One by one, she tied them slowly. "All done." She smiled and stood, extending her hand to him. "How are you feeling?"

"Getting there." He took her hand and stood, suddenly realizing just how warm her palm was. Hermione smiled at his answer. It sounded perfect, not just for him, but all of them. They were getting there. Slowly, they were healing. He cleared his throat and began to walk forward, their hands slipping from each other's grasp. Hermione worried her lip, looking around her and he smiled as he reached the door. "Are ye coming, Lass?" She turned her head to look at him and nodded, smiling as she walked forward and he opened the door, beckoning for her to go first.

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There was a quiet 'pat-pat' noise going around Harry's dorm right now and the sleeping boy seemed all to content to let it continue, as long as he was able to get some rest. 'Pat-Pat. Pat-Pat.' He groaned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in bed and practically jumped out of his skin. A large, tawny brown owl stared at him with big black eyes, a letter in it's beak. It seemed angry at having been ignored for so long and it was with some hesitation that Harry stood out of bed and opened the window.

The owl swooped in, stopping on the chair in his bedroom, dropping the letter into the seat. He looked at Harry expectantly and the raven-haired boy nodded, moving over to his desk, sliding a drawer open and taking out a treat. The owl took it and hooted angrily in his face before taking leave. "Wait!" Harry called out, as if it would listen to him, but it didn't, and continued it's flight path away from the school grounds. "Bloody creature." He muttered and moved over to the chair, picking up the letter.

He sank down into the seat, leaning his head against the back of it, popping open the envelope. He sighed, rubbing his eyes again and looking at the handwriting. He froze.

Harry

"Ron." He exhaled, his hands shaking as he turned the piece of parchment over. He would recognize the writing anywhere, he knew. It had been over two and a half weeks since his best mate had left and not a scrap of news. Until today. Had he just written to him? Had he sent a letter to his family as well? Why did he wait so long before writing? Perhaps the answers would be in the letter. He licked his lips and let his eyes roam over it.

I know you must hate me right now. To be honest, I kind of hate me, too. .

I'm moving around Europe right now, please don't tell anyone

about it. I just need some time alone. I'm sorry I can't tell you much anymore.

Please, burn this letter as soon as you read it. Don't show it to anyone, least

of all Hermione. Bye, Harry.

Ron

Harry felt himself fuming as he stood, crumpling the letter in his fist. It would seem that Ron didn't send a letter to anyone else. He threw it angrily into the unlit fireplace, looking for his wand. His best mate was gone and he didn't even bother to give an explanation. "Incendio!" He growled out, watching a ball of fire leave his wand and hit the fireplace, the letter burning quickly. He was so angry at Ron, so angry at him for leaving them, for leaving Hermione, when they needed him the most. He didn't know why he listened to him, but he knew he couldn't tell anyone about the letter. This was either a really clever stunt or a really stupid one, Harry couldn't decide. He hit his head against the door and took a breath. When Ron got back, he was going to kill him. Sighing, he took his clothes and a towel and headed for the shower.

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George sat in his bed, his arms on his knees and wand in hand. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn't slept. That's because he hadn't. It had been days since he'd last seen the peace of sleeping. Oliver had been unconscious and he couldn't go to Hermione's room. He didn't want her to see him like this. He tilted his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes, a lone tear escaping and running down his right cheek. He wiped it away and lifted his head again staring across him at the mirror. He didn't see himself. He never saw himself. It was always Fred. He shook his head, lifting his wand, "Confringo."

George watched as the mirror lit up in flames, the glass cracking and then eventually bursting. His eyes brightened, the flames dancing around before eventually dying down. He stood from his bed, glass crunching under his bare feet. He looked around the room, seeing that all of the three mirrors in his room had been broken, glass littering the stone floor. He walked over it easily, not even flinching as the glass cut his feet and he headed into the common room, where the mirrors were also busted. He walked into the kitchen where the teapot sat over a fire and took it in his hand, pouring himself a cup of boiling hot tea. He didn't feel his hand burning as he grasped the pot tightly. Eventually, he let it go and it dropped into the sink, sizzling as he turned on the water. George dropped to the ground, tears rolling down his cheeks, his head in his hands, his fingers tugging at his hair.

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Ginny sighed as she looked in the mirror, coming out her long ginger hair. She pulled it back into a high ponytail and exited her room, smiling as she saw her parents already sitting in the common room, waiting. "Morning, Mum. Morning, Dad." She gave each a kiss on the top of their head. "Are you going down for breakfast?" Ginny asked, heading towards the portrait door. She turned to look at her parents who nodded.

"Yes, we are. We'll meet you down there, alright, sweetie?" Arthur gave his daughter a look and she grinned, nodding. "Don't sit too close to Harry!" He called after her as she headed out through the doors and she rolled her eyes. Molly slapped his arm. "Ow. What was that for?"

Ginny smiled as she saw Oliver and Hermione heading down the corridor. "Hey, you two." She waved and Hermione smiled, running to give her a hug. "Oh, good morning to you, too, Hermione."

Hermione pulled away, smiling. "Good Morning, Ginny." Oliver nodded, giving her a small hug. The three walked into a second corridor, taking a right, chatting amicably when Harry exited his portrait, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Harry?" He stopped short at hearing Hermione call him and turned.

"Oh, hi. I didn't see you all there." He smiled at them and gave the girls a hug, shaking Oliver's hand happily, but Hermione wasn't paying attention to his smile, she was looking at his eyes. He seemed far away. Something was wrong. She didn't feel like questioning him here in front of everyone. So, instead, they walked to the Great Hall, Hermione and Oliver following behind the couple.

As they ate, George walked in, fixing his hair. Oliver's eyebrows knitted together as his eyes found the gauze wrapped around the boys palm. He nudged Hermione, who looked up and saw worry enter her eyes. The ginger boy sat across from his best mate, immediately picking up a plate and filling it with food. The two across from him kept their eyes on him until he looked up. "Can I help you?" His voice was playful and Hermione rose a brow, taking his injured hand.

"George, what happened to your hand?" She asked, beginning to remove the gauze. He moved his hand from her grasp quickly. "George…" She began, her tone worried.

"I burnt it, Hermione. It was an accident, completely idiotic of me." He shrugged, assuring not only her, but the rest of his family and friends. "I made some tea earlier and wasn't thinking when I grasped the pot. It was still boiling hot." Molly gasped, about to stand he shook his head, holding his good hand out to her. "I've already treated it, Mum. My fingers have gone back to normal, it's just the palm that's still painful." At this he turned to Hermione. "I would appreciate it if you didn't move it, bookworm. It hurts." He smiled at her and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I'm sorry, George." She smiled and went back to her breakfast. Oliver kept his eyes on his best mate, who moved his eyes from the girl to him, raising an eyebrow. Oliver looked at his hand.

"We'll talk later." He mouthed and the Weasley boy rolled his eyes, nodding before looking down at his plate, but never really eating. Hermione frowned as she looked down at her plate of food, suddenly not hungry. What was going on with her friends.

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The day had passed by too slowly. One of the walls for the sixth floor had crumpled and set them back a few days. Hermione had spent her time with Oliver in the library, fixing books in their respective spots. Madame Pince had come by every now and then to ask for more book suggestions and had even given Hermione permission to enter the restricted section. There were books in there that they decided had to be dealt with. It was nearly midnight and the she was already lying in bed. Oliver was not there right now, he had gone to George's dorm.

George moved around the room slowly, sitting down on the couch after pouring himself and Oliver a cup of tea. "Right, Lad. So, what is really goin' on?" Oliver demanded, sitting back against the chair.

He looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Don't lie tae mae, George. I'm yer best mate, I know ye more than ye know yerself." He shook his head. "I saw the way yer eyes were today durin' breakfast. I know somethin' is wrong with ye. I need ye tae tell mae."

"Nothing's the matter with me, Oliver." George stood, placing his cup down. "If that's why you're here, you might as well leave. I'm perfectly fine." His eyes moved to the spot beside Oliver and the boy turned to see what George was looking at. Nothing. "I told you." George sighed. "I'm fine. You can go. I'm getting tired." Oliver opened his mouth to speak and George cut him off. "No! There's nothing wrong with me! Just leave me alone!"

Oliver sighed, standing. "Very well. I'll see ye tomorrow, Lad." Oliver patted his back and placed his cup down, exiting through the portrait hole. George rubbed his eyes as he sat back down, his face in his hands.

"You did good, Georgie-boy." George looked up, staring in the direction of the voice. "You have to keep them in the dark about this, remember? It's the only way. It's the only way I can come back." George watched as Fred materialized before him, in the spot he had been before, beside Oliver's empty seat. "That is what you want, right? To bring me back?"

George nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. "More than anything, Freddie." Fred nodded, looking at the broken boy sat before him.

"Good, George. Very good." He grinned maliciously, his eyes shining.

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A/N So, how do you like it? I hope you've enjoyed reading it. Please REVIEW!


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